Wish You Were Her(65)

But he had been erased.

“We have a journalist on the phone,” Estelle said, turning to look into another camera. “Julie M. Atkins, you’ve interviewed Allegra Brooks before, you are her most recent interviewer. What were your impressions of her?”

Jonah frowned, recognizing the name from the voicemail on his phone. He glowered as the same snobbish, disembodied voice began to speak.

“She’s a real struggle to interview, I’ll say that much,” Julie said, sounding utterly delighted to be on the air. “She gives herself airs, so it’s actually quite fabulous to see her being humbled like this.”

“She’s a kid,” Estelle said, quietly and with a look of distaste, but Julie barrelled on.

“To be perfectly honest though, when I met her, I found her to be a tad … off. A bit of a cold fish. So these pictures were a surprise.”

“What was ‘off’ about her?” asked LeAnn.

“Can’t put my finger on it. Just something.”

“She was Little Miss Squeaky Clean before this,” LeeAnn added smugly. “Not much of a role model anymore, is she? And those lakehouse pictures were no unwanted kiss. That was far too steamy.”

“No, the kiss with…” Estelle checked her notes, “… Simon Hannigan was unwanted. Not sure about the dark-haired one.”

Jonah rolled his eyes. It was surreal to hear Simon’s name on television.

“She’s eighteen years old,” Estelle went on, eyeing her colleagues with a steely look. “She’s a baby. She’s doing what millions of other young adults are doing, all over the world, except she has eyes on her at all times. People should leave her alone. If this were my daughter, I would be fighting all of you.”

“Your daughter would not do this, Estelle.”

“My daughter has done this, LeeAnn. Everyone at this table has. It just hasn’t ended up in the tabloids. Let’s move on.”

Jonah threw his phone across the room and swore. He buried his head in his hands. He wanted to take the last few hours and fight them but he couldn’t. A reputation was a fragile thing that could not be handled or grasped or even rescued.

He pulled his ancient laptop toward him and he started to write, what he always did when he had too many feelings to process and the air wouldn’t come. He wrote his friend an email. He poured out everything he felt. Everything that he knew was inevitable.

But for some reason, he didn’t release it. His finger hovered over the “send” button but he could not bring himself to do it. He saved it to his drafts and fell into a tormented sleep instead.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Allegra couldn’t sleep.

Her father had brought her a tray of food along with a disapproving aura, but they hadn’t exchanged words. Her phone remained switched off. It was her first day off from the festival and she planned to spend it in hiding.

She knew what was going to happen anyway. Press would already be descending on Lake Pristine. So, Natalie and her management would have a car come to collect her. One with tinted windows and a surly, silent driver. It would spirit her away, back to the city. To her empty apartment.

Back to the glamorous grindstone.

Back to colleagues instead of friends.

Back to stone.

As late morning slipped into her room, her self-pity was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Her father was manning the shop downstairs, so Allegra slipped into the hall. She cracked the door open a little, just in case her father had unwittingly sent a journalist up to their flat.

It was Jasper Montgomery.

Her face was so full of empathy, Allegra feared she might cry if she had any tears left.

“May I come in?”

“Sure.”

Jasper stepped into the flat, her interior designer eyes landing on every piece of furniture in a sweeping survey of the room. She was obviously not too impressed but she smiled warmly at Allegra.

“This is fucking shit.”

Allegra laughed at the woman’s bluntness. “Yes, it is.”

“I can’t believe they get to do this to you.”

“Yeah, well. Price of fame.”

“I’m checking the security tapes. If they even brushed at the borders of our land at the Lakehouse, I’m suing them to within an inch of their lives.”

“Thanks.”

They sat on Allegra’s bed and Jasper took her hand. “Have you spoken to anyone?”

“No. My publicist, briefly. She’ll be putting a plan together. They’ll have me out of here by tonight.”

Jasper scanned Allegra’s face, as though trying to catch her tells. “Is that what you want, though?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want. I’m the one who fucked up.”

“You did not fuck up, sweets. You got preyed on by a horrible photographer and an unscrupulous editor.”

Hearing Jasper say it made Allegra feel like some of the curse was lifting. “I—it’s not just my reputation, everyone I work with will be worried about implication.”

“Well, if anyone gives you a hard time about this, they don’t deserve to work with you.”

Allegra felt her breath quicken and her jaw start to tremble. “I might have ruined Jonah’s life. Those pictures will be online forever.”